Post Mortem
by WriterJC
Summary: Timmy and Ducky stuck in a . . . oh, wait. Sorry, wrong song. . . .


Author's Note: This story was written to a prompt for the NCIS Ficathon. The requestor asked for McGee & Ducky post Broken Bird, wondering how their friends felt about them. I believe an elevator was alsomentioned. It was an interesting challenge as this is my first time writing these characters.

POST MORTEM

Timothy McGee's eyes lit on Gibbs' empty desk. His computer was up and his chair was pushed back—Tim suspected a coffee run. Ziva was - well, Tim wasn't sure where she'd gotten off to. Tony had earlier loudly announced that he was going to spend a little quality time with Sylvia in accounting. Tim wasn't buying that statement at face value.

But it didn't matter. What mattered was that there was a very large box on his desk, and the team mates who liked nothing better than teasing him about it, were off to parts unknown. Seizing the moment, Tim hefted the box containing the old computer systems and made as nonchalantly as he could for the elevator.

The coast was clear ahead, nothing between him and escape. He pushed the call button, and was glad to hear the sound of an electronic ding as the doors slid open immediately. He thought he heard the sound of approaching footsteps behind him. Some paranoid sixth sense warned him it was Tony coming to further tease him about taking the computers home instead of sending them back to his mother. Tony would have to catch him first.

A quick step forward got him inside the elevator. He shuffled quickly to the side and shifted the box so he could depress the button that would take him to the ground level. The elevator accepted the command and he heard the doors start to close. He leaned around the box just in time to see Ducky dart into the elevator.

"Ducky!" he exclaimed. Then something happened. His precarious hold on the box shifted and it began to tilt toward the still-injured medical examiner. Tim wrestled the box away from the other man and overcompensated. It tipped too far to the left and forward before slamming hard against the control panel taking Tim's weight forward with it.

The lights shut off and the elevator came to an abortive halt.

"Oh dear." Ducky's words didn't quite sum up what Tim was thinking.

After a moment to shake off the abrupt jarring his ribs had taken against the side of the box, Tim readjusted his hold and shifted the box away from the panel. Something snagged and then gave way as he pulled upward. The elevator jerked slightly before moving to another choking stop that sounded nothing like the one before.

"That didn't sound good." Tim shot a glance toward Ducky, noting that the other man looked completely exhausted. Dark circles lurked beneath his eyes.

"I assure you, it wasn't," Ducky responded, focused on the elevator controls.

Tim carefully lowered the heavy box to the floor and took a look at the panel. The emergency stop switch was broken off and dangling from the front of the box and several of the floor buttons didn't look quite right. "Uh oh. I should probably call for help."

"Yes - that would be advisable."

The emergency phone was there behind the metal panel. He lifted it out and waited for it to connect with building maintenance. Nothing happened. "It doesn't appear to be working." Tim stared, confused, at the device wondering at the incongruity of both back up systems failing.

Ducky sank to a seated position on the floor. "It would seem that I am destined to be more than one sort of victim today."

Tim couldn't pretend not to know what the older man meant. He'd been filled in on what happened at the embassy by Tony and Ziva. He couldn't begin to imagine would it would feel like to learn that he'd been manipulated by a professional torturer. But Ducky had in a sense been absolved, hearing him sound so defeated just rang wrong.

Covering his own discomfort, Tim raised his cell phone. "I'll try to get someone in the office." Maybe the suggestion of a quick release would make the older man feel at least a little better.

Ducky merely waived a hand and leaned his head against the elevator wall. "I have a call of my own to make," he said, producing a cell phone.

Tim frowned as he speed dialed Abby. "What's up Timmy?" Abby's upbeat voice dragged his attention away from Ducky telling someone not to wait for him because he was being held up upstairs. He quickly explained the situation, made her promise not to involve Gibbs, Ziva or especially Tony and to send help right away. She pinky swore on the life of her chicky-baby and hung up.

"It's very unlikely that Jethro, along with Anthony and Ziva won't be waiting outside of that door when we get out of here," Ducky commented, having already disconnected from whomever he'd called.

"I know," Tim admitted. "But I was hoping that this time they wouldn't."

Ducky looked at him oddly, interest forming in his red-eyed gaze. "Why ever not?"

Tim sighed and looked away. He didn't want to add his petty problems to Ducky's already unpleasant day.

"Why don't you join me?" Ducky continued, when there was no answer forthcoming. "It's going to be a while before the cavalry arrives, after all."

Tim settled onto the floor alongside the older man, shifting his feet slightly to the side so he could stretch his legs out beside the box. "I hope it won't be too long. It's going to be the end of shift soon—maintenance is going to want to leave and everyone isn't going to want to take the stairs."

"Things take place in their time." Ducky spoke quietly. "And, I don't mean to pry, but you were saying?"

Tim sighed. Ducky wanted to know. He might as well tell him. He gestured toward the damaged cardboard box. "I was revisiting a chapter of my life that I have fond memories of, and it only reminded me of how much of a stereotype I'm characterized as by the rest of the team."

"What sort of stereotype is that?" Ducky asked.

"I'm the team geek. The 'computer guy'." Tim made air quotes. "I look up things and ferret out information."

Ducky frowned. "I'm not sure I understand the problem, Mr. McGee. I'm certain the team needs the information you're able to produce."

"It's just that, I'd like for them to see me as more than just that. I'd like them to accept me as a good agent with good instincts. Someone who can be relied on for things that aren't always computer related." Tim felt a little silly even saying it. Talking like this with Abby had felt so natural. Now, he felt like this was too minor to bother anyone with.

"Of course they see you as a reliable agent," Ducky informed him. "How could you think otherwise after that entire incident at the women's prison? Jethro would never have given you the assignment, or even have allowed you to remain in the position of negotiator if the truth were otherwise."

He smiled a little remembering the feeling of empowerment he'd felt once he'd returned to the bull pen with the team. Then the smile faded. "I think the truth is in what happened after I had my computers delivered here. It's like I'm right back to probie."

"Ah. So that is why you were moving rather quickly toward the elevator. You were seeking escape?"

"Yeah. That and Tony thinks I'm sending the computers in this box back to my family to be put into storage, but I'm taking them home. It's more than just the data that's important about them."

"Sometimes objects have sentimental value. I'm certain that Tony would not hold that against you."

"I'm certain he would."

"If something happened to those computers, or they were stolen, don't you think Tony would be one of the first people to try to help you find them?"

"Yeah, after he's teased me. But, yeah, I guess you're right. He would help."

"And so would Ziva or Abby or Jethro. Even Palmer and I would do our parts in assisting you. Don't be ashamed of the things that made you the person you are today. They have value."

Tim nodded and smiled. He felt better. "Thanks Ducky."

"You're welcome, Timothy. I am happy to help." The older man's countenance was lighter.

"I'm sure that's what you were doing then," Tim spoke hesitantly. He wasn't sure he should go there, but Ducky was a talker and maybe talking would help. They had the time. "You were serving the greater good."

Ducky didn't speak for long moments, and Tim began to wonder that he shouldn't have said anything after all.

"Perhaps," Ducky finally spoke. "But the bottom line is that she was right. I did kill her brother."

"You didn't allow him to be hurt again. There's a difference."

"Some might argue that death is the ultimate hurt," Ducky spoke bitterly. "I made a choice to help that young man to escape from a torturous death. It was my sacrifice, and I knew some day I might have to pay the penalty for it. I was willing to pay the penalty. Honor demanded it."

"So what happened?"

"There was no honor involved at all. I was manipulated and used just as he was. Every bit of it was orchestrated at the whim of a man who viewed others as something less than human. And I was trapped, like everyone else."

"No one thinks any less of you. You never changed in our eyes because we all knew that you weren't the man you were being accused of being. And in the end, his sister realized what we knew all along: that you are an honorable man. You proved it both then and now.

"You told me not to be ashamed; you shouldn't be ashamed either. To all of us you're still the same man you were yesterday and the day before, and we're all better for it."

"Thank you, Timothy." Ducky smiled, his eyes looking suspiciously bright.

Tim returned the smile, and then looked away, allowing his gaze to tray to the broken switches. "Do you think I'll be charged with destruction of government property?"

Ducky chuckled. "I'm certain that the number of times Jethro has used it for his private meetings with Fornell, et al has seriously shortened its lifespan."

Tim looked up as the elevator dinged and lights came back on to full brightness. "One way or the other, we're about to find out."

Then End

Prompt: McGee and Ducky get stuck in an elevator and discuss how they think everyone else in the team views them (prefer this be post Broken Bird)

I apologize for being so late on posting! This is my first NCIS fic, and so my first time handling the characters. I really hope this fit the bill at least a little bit.

Timothy McGee's eyes lit on Gibbs' empty desk. His computer was up and his chair was pushed back—Tim suspected a coffee run. Ziva was - well, Tim wasn't sure where she'd gotten off to. Tony had earlier loudly announced that he was going to spend a little quality time with Sylvia in accounting. Tim wasn't buying that statement at face value.

But it didn't matter. What mattered was that there was a very large box on his desk, and the team mates who liked nothing better than teasing him about it, were off to parts unknown. Seizing the moment, Tim hefted the box containing the old computer systems and made as nonchalantly as he could for the elevator.

The coast was clear ahead, nothing between him and escape. He pushed the call button, and was glad to hear the sound of an electronic ding as the doors slid open immediately. He thought he heard the sound of approaching footsteps behind him. Some paranoid sixth sense warned him it was Tony coming to further tease him about taking the computers home instead of sending them back to his mother. Tony would have to catch him first.

A quick step forward got him inside the elevator. He shuffled quickly to the side and shifted the box so he could depress the button that would take him to the ground level. The elevator accepted the command and he heard the doors start to close. He leaned around the box just in time to see Ducky dart into the elevator.

"Ducky!" he exclaimed. Then something happened. His precarious hold on the box shifted and it began to tilt toward the still-injured medical examiner. Tim wrestled the box away from the other man and overcompensated. It tipped too far to the left and forward before slamming hard against the control panel taking Tim's weight forward with it.

The lights shut off and the elevator came to an abortive halt.

"Oh dear." Ducky's words didn't quite sum up what Tim was thinking.

After a moment to shake off the abrupt jarring his ribs had taken against the side of the box, Tim readjusted his hold and shifted the box away from the panel. Something snagged and then gave way as he pulled upward. The elevator jerked slightly before moving to another choking stop that sounded nothing like the one before.

"That didn't sound good." Tim shot a glance toward Ducky, noting that the other man looked completely exhausted. Dark circles lurked beneath his eyes.

"I assure you, it wasn't," Ducky responded, focused on the elevator controls.

Tim carefully lowered the heavy box to the floor and took a look at the panel. The emergency stop switch was broken off and dangling from the front of the box and several of the floor buttons didn't look quite right. "Uh oh. I should probably call for help."

"Yes - that would be advisable."

The emergency phone was there behind the metal panel. He lifted it out and waited for it to connect with building maintenance. Nothing happened. "It doesn't appear to be working." Tim stared, confused, at the device wondering at the incongruity of both back up systems failing.

Ducky sank to a seated position on the floor. "It would seem that I am destined to be more than one sort of victim today."

Tim couldn't pretend not to know what the older man meant. He'd been filled in on what happened at the embassy by Tony and Ziva. He couldn't begin to imagine would it would feel like to learn that he'd been manipulated by a professional torturer. But Ducky had in a sense been absolved, hearing him sound so defeated just rang wrong.

Covering his own discomfort, Tim raised his cell phone. "I'll try to get someone in the office." Maybe the suggestion of a quick release would make the older man feel at least a little better.

Ducky merely waived a hand and leaned his head against the elevator wall. "I have a call of my own to make," he said, producing a cell phone.

Tim frowned as he speed dialed Abby. "What's up Timmy?" Abby's upbeat voice dragged his attention away from Ducky telling someone not to wait for him because he was being held up upstairs. He quickly explained the situation, made her promise not to involve Gibbs, Ziva or especially Tony and to send help right away. She pinky swore on the life of her chicky-baby and hung up.

"It's very unlikely that Jethro, along with Anthony and Ziva won't be waiting outside of that door when we get out of here," Ducky commented, having already disconnected from whomever he'd called.

"I know," Tim admitted. "But I was hoping that this time they wouldn't."

Ducky looked at him oddly, interest forming in his red-eyed gaze. "Why ever not?"

Tim sighed and looked away. He didn't want to add his petty problems to Ducky's already unpleasant day.

"Why don't you join me?" Ducky continued, when there was no answer forthcoming. "It's going to be a while before the cavalry arrives, after all."

Tim settled onto the floor alongside the older man, shifting his feet slightly to the side so he could stretch his legs out beside the box. "I hope it won't be too long. It's going to be the end of shift soon—maintenance is going to want to leave and everyone isn't going to want to take the stairs."

"Things take place in their time." Ducky spoke quietly. "And, I don't mean to pry, but you were saying?"

Tim sighed. Ducky wanted to know. He might as well tell him. He gestured toward the damaged cardboard box. "I was revisiting a chapter of my life that I have fond memories of, and it only reminded me of how much of a stereotype I'm characterized as by the rest of the team."

"What sort of stereotype is that?" Ducky asked.

"I'm the team geek. The 'computer guy'." Tim made air quotes. "I look up things and ferret out information."

Ducky frowned. "I'm not sure I understand the problem, Mr. McGee. I'm certain the team needs the information you're able to produce."

"It's just that, I'd like for them to see me as more than just that. I'd like them to accept me as a good agent with good instincts. Someone who can be relied on for things that aren't always computer related." Tim felt a little silly even saying it. Talking like this with Abby had felt so natural. Now, he felt like this was too minor to bother anyone with.

"Of course they see you as a reliable agent," Ducky informed him. "How could you think otherwise after that entire incident at the women's prison? Jethro would never have given you the assignment, or even have allowed you to remain in the position of negotiator if the truth were otherwise."

He smiled a little remembering the feeling of empowerment he'd felt once he'd returned to the bull pen with the team. Then the smile faded. "I think the truth is in what happened after I had my computers delivered here. It's like I'm right back to probie."

"Ah. So that is why you were moving rather quickly toward the elevator. You were seeking escape?"

"Yeah. That and Tony thinks I'm sending the computers in this box back to my family to be put into storage, but I'm taking them home. It's more than just the data that's important about them."

"Sometimes objects have sentimental value. I'm certain that Tony would not hold that against you."

"I'm certain he would."

"If something happened to those computers, or they were stolen, don't you think Tony would be one of the first people to try to help you find them?"

"Yeah, after he's teased me. But, yeah, I guess you're right. He would help."

"And so would Ziva or Abby or Jethro. Even Palmer and I would do our parts in assisting you. Don't be ashamed of the things that made you the person you are today. They have value."

Tim nodded and smiled. He felt better. "Thanks Ducky."

"You're welcome, Timothy. I am happy to help." The older man's countenance was lighter.

"I'm sure that's what you were doing then," Tim spoke hesitantly. He wasn't sure he should go there, but Ducky was a talker and maybe talking would help. They had the time. "You were serving the greater good."

Ducky didn't speak for long moments, and Tim began to wonder that he shouldn't have said anything after all.

"Perhaps," Ducky finally spoke. "But the bottom line is that she was right. I did kill her brother."

"You didn't allow him to be hurt again. There's a difference."

"Some might argue that death is the ultimate hurt," Ducky spoke bitterly. "I made a choice to help that young man to escape from a torturous death. It was my sacrifice, and I knew some day I might have to pay the penalty for it. I was willing to pay the penalty. Honor demanded it."

"So what happened?"

"There was no honor involved at all. I was manipulated and used just as he was. Every bit of it was orchestrated at the whim of a man who viewed others as something less than human. And I was trapped, like everyone else."

"No one thinks any less of you. You never changed in our eyes because we all knew that you weren't the man you were being accused of being. And in the end, his sister realized what we knew all along: that you are an honorable man. You proved it both then and now.

"You told me not to be ashamed; you shouldn't be ashamed either. To all of us you're still the same man you were yesterday and the day before, and we're all better for it."

"Thank you, Timothy." Ducky smiled, his eyes looking suspiciously bright.

Tim returned the smile, and then looked away, allowing his gaze to tray to the broken switches. "Do you think I'll be charged with destruction of government property?"

Ducky chuckled. "I'm certain that the number of times Jethro has used it for his private meetings with Fornell, et al has seriously shortened its lifespan."

Tim looked up as the elevator dinged and lights came back on to full brightness. "One way or the other, we're about to find out."


End file.
